Laconic
by dog.spartacus
Summary: An especially rough case tests Benson and Stabler's partnership, but the detectives are nothing if not driven.
1. Chapter 1

**A/N: This is a two-parter, written and set during Season 12, before "Rescue" (12x10) with references through "Penetrated." This has been sitting in the validation queue for more than two months over at SVUfiction, so for the first time ever, I'm posting it here before it's published there. Expect the conclusion within a few days. Comments are always appreciated.**

**And here, the obligatory disclaimer: no one on the SVU squad is mine.**

* * *

"Laconic"

It's been a rough case (as if any of them are ever easy), and they've been quiet and short with each other (as if they ever get along anymore)—but this one's been particularly taxing, and their relationship has been particularly cold—and Olivia wants nothing more than to go home and forget the last two days ever happened. They haven't spoken for a full ninety minutes when Elliot noses the sedan onto the Taconic.

* * *

A woman had come in two days earlier, frantic that her nine-year-old nephew was missing. His parents, she said, were on vacation and had left the boy in her care. She identified herself as Marcia Golakos, sister of Karen Estes, the boy's mother, and gave them all the information they needed. The boy was Benjamin. She had a school photo of him from two years earlier. "He's got a buzz cut now," she explained as she handed it over. "Um, short. And that missing tooth? It's grown in now." Her hands shook as she used her pinky to point to his features. "Other than that, he looks exactly the same," she choked out.

Olivia placed a hand on her shoulder to try to calm her. "It's okay," she said. "Do you have any more recent photos? I don't mean _with_ you, but maybe at home? Anything at all would be helpful."

"No," Marcia had sobbed in response. "No, I've only got that one."

Elliot eyed his partner as he brought over a cup of tea for the distraught woman. "Here, Ms. Golakos," he said as he set the tea down for her, "why don't you have a seat and tell us a little more about your nephew."

She gave them everything they asked for: Karen and Mark had been married for twelve years; Ben was their only child; his birthday was January 14. Mark had just gotten a promotion at work, and he and Karen had decided to finally take their honeymoon, since they hadn't had the money as newlyweds. They were in the Florida Keys. Marcia had the number at home, she could get it for the detectives if they needed it. Mark and Karen hadn't wanted to pull Ben out of school, especially since it was the beginning of the school year. Ben went to PS 75. He was in Miss Hartley's third grade. Karen and Mark had been gone for four days, weren't due back for another ten. Marcia hadn't called them yet; she didn't want them to worry. Ben might be playing a trick on her, after all, Marcia suggested. He was always fooling around. "Quite clever, he is," she said. And then: "Sometimes too much for his own good." Yes, now that she thought about it, now that she talked it out, she began to think that maybe he really was just playing a trick on her. She said they'd had an argument the night before about his bedtime. She had tried to make him go to bed at seven, she said. He had insisted her his bedtime was eight. When she went to pick him up at school, he wasn't there. She went inside to ask about it in the office, and the attendance secretary said he had never shown up that morning. "I walked him there myself," Marcia insisted, leaning forward in her chair next to Olivia's desk.

"I'm just... I don't know what to do," Marcia finally said when she had finished telling them everything. "Karen's gonna be... God, what do I tell her?"

"You tell her the truth, Marcia," Olivia said. "And we're going to figure out where Benjamin is, and then you tell her that. In the meantime, you'll need to file a missing persons report."

"I don't know how—"

"It's pretty straightforward," Elliot chimed in, speaking for the first time since he'd given Marcia the tea. "Just give us, in writing, everything you just told us, and we'll get the paperwork in."

"In writing? But I just told you—"

"We need it in writing, Marcia, so we can get help from other agencies, and so there's an official record of the investigation," Olivia said reassuringly.

Marcia still seemed reluctant. Anxious, maybe. "Come on, we'll get you set up with a room," Elliot said, helping her out of the chair and towards one of their conference rooms.

"And, Marcia, while you're doing that, we'll use what you've given us already to get started on our end, okay?" Olivia added. Marcia nodded. "I'll send an officer to your house to wait for Ben in case he shows up," she said, reaching for the phone.

"No!" Marcia suddenly said. "No, that won't be necessary—my, uh, my landlady's there," she stammered.

"Does she know Benjamin is missing?"

"Yes. Yes, I told her before I left to come here."

"Will she call you if he shows up?"

"Yes. She will."

Olivia nodded and put the phone down. Elliot got Marcia squared away with the forms she needed at the table in the conference room and joined his partner again in the bullpen.

"Liv," he said casually, turning his back to the woman in the conference room, "why don't you go ahead and send patrol over to her place... you know. Just in case." He shrugged his shoulders. "Who knows how long she'll be with that statement."

Olivia smirked. "You don't trust her landlady?"

Elliot made a face. "That's if she's _got_ a landlady."

Olivia's jaw dropped—not much, but it did. "Why would she make that up?"

He laughed and rolled his shoulders again. "I dunno, why didn't she want an officer over there? Maybe she's in violation of the Sidewalk Law—maybe she's housing illegal workers—maybe she doesn't want us to find her meth lab. Who knows?"

Olivia rolled her eyes. "Well _she_ wouldn't be responsible for the sidewalks..."

"Humor me, okay?" he said. "Could be nothing."

"You're right. And when it turns out to be nothing, you're buying me lunch for a week."

"You're going to eat lunch every day for a week?" He wished he could add, _Sounds like I win either way_, but that would mean admitting that he knew when she was eating and when she wasn't, that he worried about her, that he wanted her to take care of herself—that _he_ wanted to take care of her when she refused to do so. But admitting anything like that was what got them into so much trouble several years ago, so he kept the thought to himself and smirked as he turned away.

She rolled her eyes again and got back on the phone with the dispatch office, asking them to send patrol units to both Marcia's place and Ben's parents'.

Cragen emerged from his office a few minutes later to ask for an update. Elliot was on hold for someone at PS 75 who might be able to confirm whether Benjamin Estes was a student there and whether he'd been absent that day, while Olivia was on the phone with dispatch again. "What are we looking at?" the Captain asked as he strutted over. "We think there's a case? I mean one for Special Victims?"

"Thanks," Olivia said into the phone as she hung it up and swiveled in her chair to face Cragen. "Patrol just arrived at Marcia's. No one there, but they'll wait it out until she gets back."

"What about the landlady?" Elliot asked from across their desks, dropping his receiver away from his mouth.

"No answer on any of the doors," Olivia supplied.

"Did we send anyone to the kid's house? Maybe he got lost and didn't know his aunt's address? Or he's with a friend whose parents don't know his folks are out of town...?" Cragen suggested.

"Yeah, patrol's headed there, too."

"And do we have any reason to believe this is _our_ case?"

"It walked into our squad room, didn't it?"

"Olivia—"

"Cap, can't we just investigate until we find out it's _not_ our case? Benjamin could be anywhere—with anyone."

Elliot hung up his phone loudly and scrubbed his hands down his face. "On hold for almost twenty minutes, just to have the same know-nothing come back on to tell me all the administrative staff is gone for the day."

"I'll go call the Chancellor's office, see if they can't get someone from the boy's school to give us a call." And with that, Cragen turned and slumped back into his office.

Elliot peered around Olivia and into the conference room where Marcia sat, still hunched over her papers. "What's she writing, _War & Peace_?"

"She's probably just being thorough," Olivia mumbled. Her phone rang. "Benson. Yeah? ...Okay, thanks. ...Let me get back to you." She dropped the phone back into the cradle. "The address Marcia gave us for Ben's parents doesn't exist," she told her partner.

Just then, Marcia emerged from the conference room, clutching her report. Olivia stood up to meet her.

"Marcia, you said your sister and her husband live on West 87th?"

"No, East. Did I say West?" she asked, seeming somewhat vacant. "They moved last year—sometimes I still say West." Olivia nodded understandingly and took the papers from her.

"Take my card," she urged. "We'll get this filed and start on it right away, but if Ben comes home or you need anything or you remember anything else, just call, okay? Anytime, doesn't matter."

Marcia nodded, thanked them, and headed out. Elliot's phone rang. Olivia called dispatch to send officers to the new address and then started entering Ben's info into their database.

"That was Miss Hartley herself," Elliot said when he hung up. "Ben Estes _is_ one of her students, and he _was_ absent today. She said it's unusual for him to miss. But what would she know, it's only been two months."

"El—"

"Got the names of some of his friends from class—and their parents. I'll start making the calls; maybe one of them knows where he is."

The two detectives began their preliminary footwork and had been at it for almost forty-five minutes when Cragen appeared again. "Where are we?" he wanted to know.

"Called three of the families on the list from Ben's teacher. No one's seen him, but they also all said their kids only knew him from class. He's never been to any of their houses, and they haven't met his parents. He was new to the school this year."

"Not too surprising, if his family moved," Olivia observed.

"Except PS 75 is on the West Side. Marcia said they moved to _East _87th. Why do you move to the Upper East Side and suddenly decide to send your kid crosstown to school?"

"What are you getting at, Elliot?" Cragen pressed.

"I dunno," he said in his Long Island drawl. "Something just isn't right." Yes, Marcia had all the answers, but something about her behavior just hadn't sat right with him. He was reluctant to say that he didn't believe her, but he was definitely leery. "School choice aside, how are you a parent and not take your kid on vacation with you?"

"Belated honeymoon, El—not really a kid-friendly place," Olivia snapped, a little pissed that he was nitpicking Marcia's report rather than calling the other parents on his list.

"Okay. But... you go to the Florida Keys in the middle of hurricane season?"

"It's probably cheaper."

"And Marcia hasn't called her sister yet? Not even to get some clue as to where he could have gone?"

"She just lost her sister's kid, Elliot. Is that the first phone call you'd be leaping to make?"

"Okay, so _we_ call the parents," Cragen said. "One of you got their number?"

"Straight to voicemail," Olivia replied. "Already tried."

"Try it again. Elliot, how many other parents do you have left to call?"

"Just one. Line was busy earlier."

"Try it again."

"Still voicemail," Olivia noted.

"You leave a message?"

"I did the first time, yeah."

"Still busy, Cap."

"Marcia said she had the hotel information at home. We could try that," Olivia suggested.

"Good. Get in touch with her," Cragen said.

"Now here's another thing," Elliot suddenly whined, grabbing a copy of Marcia's missing persons report. The outburst was enough to draw Olivia's attention and stop her from her task. "This 'argument' Marcia had with Ben last night? Now, I never said I'd win Parent of the Year, but there's no way they were arguing about these bedtimes!"

"What?" Olivia barked. It was one of the most ludicrous things she had heard Elliot say.

"I mean it. Who in their right mind tries to put a nine-year-old to bed at seven?"

Finally Olivia had had enough. She wasn't afraid to lay into him a little. "You know what, Elliot, not everyone knows these things. If you're not expecting to be a parent, or even a babysitter, and it's suddenly thrust on you, you don't know what time to make a kid go to bed any more than you know the Saturday morning cartoon lineup! You can't hold it against her that she thought he should go to bed earlier than his parents do!"

Elliot stared at her for a moment, struck dumb by her explosion. "Is this about Calvin?" he finally ventured.

"Hey!" Cragen shouted, hoping to cap whatever fight had just erupted.

"My point is," Elliot continued, speaking to the Captain rather than his partner, "I don't know a single normal nine-year-old whose bedtime is eight o'clock. Eight-thirty _maybe_. But not eight. No way that's this kid's bedtime, and no way Marcia tried to put him down at seven. That's all."

"This is your paternal gut speaking?" Cragen asked wryly as Olivia's phone began to ring.

Elliot grinned at the sarcasm. "I've been in child-rearing longer than I have law enforcement." Cragen chuckled and focused on Olivia, whose phone conversation had become somewhat alarming.

"I'm telling you, she left almost an hour ago. ...It's eight blocks from here. She was going eight—yes! ...No. Thank you." Olivia slammed her phone down and looked up at the two men who were waiting expectantly. "Marcia hasn't made it home yet."

"Call her," Cragen replied instantly. Olivia's fingers were already dialing the number she gave on her report. After a moment, her eyes snapped up to find Cragen's.

"It's not in service," Olivia mumbled. She checked the number again and redialed.

"Elliot, can you try to track down another number for her? Marcia..."

"Golakos. On it."

Olivia's phone started ringing again. Cragen stood with baited breath as she answered. "Benson. ...Really. ...Okay, thanks. ...No, it's fine, they can go. Thank you." She looked first at Elliot, then at Cragen, then at her own hands on her desk. "That was dispatch again. The officers over on East 87th haven't found any sign of Mark or Karen Estes. They even canvassed the block, asking neighbors if they knew them. Nothing."

"Cap, I can't find _any_ public records for Marcia Golakos. Not even through DMV." Elliot and Olivia stared at each other over their desks.

"Who is this woman?" Olivia breathed.

Elliot nodded before adding, "And what about Ben Estes?"

* * *

**A/N: Conclusion to come within a few days.**


	2. Chapter 2

The case really picked up when Cragen made another call to the Chancellor's office to get Ben's home information, and the detectives finally tracked down Carla Dominguez, the boy's real mother, at work. Her husband Marco was Ben's stepfather. Carla's mother was supposed to pick Ben up from school that day and keep him that night, as she did every Thursday, since both Carla and Marco worked late. When the detectives told Carla that Ben hadn't been in school all day, she replied, "That's crazy! We ride the bus there every morning on my way to work! I dropped him off!" She tried getting in touch with her mother, but couldn't.

Carla didn't know anyone named Marcia; she had a brother in the Bronx and an estranged sister named Elisa. Marco had no family to speak of. Calls to the grandmother's place repeatedly went unanswered. A patrol unit was sent to her address around nine o'clock that night but turned up nothing. Benson and Stabler themselves went over to investigate and finally roused someone after ten. It was the grandmother's boyfriend, who told the detectives that the woman was in the hospital following a nasty fall and had arranged for her daughter to keep the boy overnight instead.

This development was met with neither relief nor excitement; Carla hadn't spoken to her sister for several years, and the only address that anyone had for Elisa was outdated by a couple months. And finally Carla revealed why she had broken ties: "There was this boy," she said quietly, "this little neighbor boy, when we were growing up, and he... he used to do things with Elisa. He had this little clubhouse or somethin' that he made down in the basement of our building, and he used to take her there and... do things."

"You're saying your sister was sexually assaulted?" Stabler asked.

"No, no—I mean, yes, maybe, but—it was kids' stuff. You know, playin' doctor. That kind of stuff. And she... _liked_ it. She'd tell me all about it. I guess he was her boyfriend, or somethin', I don't know, but they were only seven or eight. We... never told our mom. But then... the little boy—I don't know his name, I was maybe five, and we never talked about it after that—he was killed, hit by a car when he was out in the street. And Elisa just... she wasn't the same after that."

"What do you mean?" Stabler pressed gently.

"I don't know, she got quiet. Wouldn't talk to anyone. Got in trouble at school. Never really made friends, never had a boyfriend. I don't know if it had to do with that little boy or not—like, maybe this is just how Elisa was gonna turn out anyway—but... when I try to make sense of it for myself, I go back to that boy." Carla took a breath and wiped her palms on her pants. "Elisa was diagnosed schizophrenic when she was twenty. In and out of hospitals, on and off of medications. It was horrible. And after a few years, she finally seemed to have it under control, and things were going well, and then Benji was born, and... for a while, I had my sister back. She was great. Came over for dinner, went to the park with us... it was fine. Then, uh, one night... she was supposed to be babysittin' while Marco and I went to this thing for his work, and, uh... we get back early and go in to check on Ben... and she's there. Lyin' in his bed with him. No clothes, either of 'em. I mean, she was asleep, and so was he, but... God that scared the crap outta me, and I don't know... if she did anything or _what_ she did, but... we kicked her out, told her we didn't want her in our lives, told her she couldn't see Ben anymore or talk to him... and I haven't seen or heard from her since. That was a couple years ago."

"Did you tell anybody, or file a report or anything?"

"No. She's my sister. She had enough problems already, and... like I said, I don't what happened, really. I tried to ask Ben, but... he wouldn't tell me anything."

"What about your mother, did she know?"

"God no! It woulda killed her to hear somethin' like that!"

Elliot had nodded and thanked her for the information. He caught up with Olivia in the bullpen after Carla left and filled her in. He searched the DMV database for Elisa Arrozas and came up with a woman who looked like Marcia. "So 'Marcia' is Carla's sister Elisa," he said. "We gotta find Ben before she does something to him..."

"You think she's got him?" Olivia asked.

"What, you don't?"

"Why would she come in here and file a missing persons report for someone _she_ abducted?"

"Schizophrenic, Liv."

"That doesn't mean she took him. Can't we at least look into the stepfather?"

"Everything 'Marcia' told us was a lie, except for the details about Ben—"

"But he's been missing since this morning—"

"If she knew her mother wanted her to pick him up after school, she might have decided to take him first thing instead—"

"And, what, you think she was lying in wait at the school?"

"Yeah, maybe—"

"Elliot, listen to yourself!"

"Me? What about you? Since when do you not consider every possible suspect before you start eliminating them?"

"That's what I'm trying to do!" she yelled. "I think we should look at Marco before we go charging off after Elisa!" It was almost two in the morning, their nerves were shot, and Olivia had canceled a date to stay and work the case.

"You just don't want it to be Elisa because you see yourself in her—"

"Whoa, hey—"

"You did from the moment she sat down."

"Elliot, you're out of line—"

"Single woman with a sob story about a boy suddenly put in her charge—of course she cares about him, but she doesn't know what the hell she's doing—sound familiar?—"

"Hey!" Olivia roared.

"—And now, boohoo, she's gone and lost him and she feels so helpless—"

"What if she _did_ lose him? What if she _did_ try to pick him up after school, and he wasn't there?"

"Olivia, we would not be having this conversation if it was Ben's _uncle_ who'd been in that bed with him two years ago. We'd be on that fucker in a heartbeat, and you know it."

She glared at him, roiling with anger. Finally, she dropped her gaze to her computer. "I'm going to look into the stepfather," she muttered.

Elliot stared at her in disbelief for a moment more. "I'll be in the crib," he said, turning away and heading for the stairs.

* * *

He's making the merge onto the parkway before Olivia even realizes they haven't gone the right way to get on the Thruway. Her sharp intake of breath is enough to make Elliot smile, even on this, one of the worst mornings he's had in a year or more, and he has to turn his head away because he can't suppress it and couldn't bear it if she saw him do it. With a concentrated frown, though, he clears the smile from his face and turns forward again, gripping the steering wheel like it's a perp's shirt collar and pretending he took the Taconic because it was more convenient, not because it was more scenic. Pretending he doesn't know that his partner loves fall leaves.

* * *

Elliot was back in the bullpen at five, pouring himself a cup of coffee before returning to his desk. Olivia left to shower before Cragen returned around six, Fin and Munch were called in for seven, and by eight o'clock, the entire unit was working three different leads on Ben's disappearance.

Eventually something in Elliot's investigation caught Munch's attention, and pretty soon everyone but Olivia was working the Elisa Arrozas angle. Olivia's investigation into Marco had turned up nothing but parking tickets and an illegal sister in Arizona whose asylum case the feds were backstopping.

It took them the entire day to get Elisa's medical records released, and to finally track down the car she had rented with cash two days earlier. She didn't have any credit cards to track or a cell phone, and the only contact information her mother had for her was at a group home in Chelsea, where she hadn't been for several days. The address she had given them as Marcia had turned out to be a total bust, too, just like the address on the East Side. Finally a lead panned out upstate, and in the wee hours of the morning, operating on a collective five hours of sleep since they caught the case 36 hours ago, Stabler and his partner drove at breakneck speed up the Thruway to meet local authorities at a little farm outside of Claverack.

Elliot had been right all along. Olivia felt sick as they sped northward through the night, angry at herself for siding with Elisa, questioning why she had so readily, mad that Elliot was being gracious about being right. She kind of wished that he would just rub her nose in it and get it over with. But he had been silent, and that was infinitely worse. No fight, no resolution, just the knowledge that they both knew she'd been wrong and no one would ever call her out for it.

* * *

They don't say anything as Elliot maneuvers the sedan around the curves of the parkway, past the exposed rocks and under the mantle of reds and browns and golds. He isn't speeding this time, and he hadn't thought to bring sunglasses, so he'll be squinting for a while against the morning sun cresting to his left, but he doesn't really mind.

Olivia gazes out her window at the trees and she wishes this weren't the prettiest drive she's taken in a while. This isn't the time or place for it, she thinks. Not after a night like this, not after a case like this. Not with her partner—her very married partner. This is the drive you take when you have the weekend off of work, or so she imagines, when the greatest guy in the world has surprised you with a weekend at a charming little B&B, and everything is right with the world. _Those_ are the circumstances under which this drive would be enjoyable. _That's_ the man who should be at the wheel.

She rubs her forehead and desperately wants to sleep, knowing it'll still be two hours before they're back in Manhattan, but she can't. The gentle curves and rolling hills along this stretch of the parkway are just too beautiful, and as much as she hates them this morning, she can't close her eyes against the turning leaves. She shifts in her seat and glances over at Elliot, but he's focused on the road. Her gaze drifts back to the passing scenery and she wonders idly if Elliot ever brought Kathy and the kids up here, and then she thinks that, if only today weren't proof that bad things could still happen here, this wouldn't be a bad place to retire. Then she almost laughs at the idea of retirement, wondering what the hell she would ever do if she gave up being a cop. And if she gave up being a cop, if she gave up her partner and mornings like this, would anyone ever drive her down the Taconic in the fall?

* * *

They got there too late.

Elisa had seen the local sheriffs arrive and, panicking, had taken off running through the woods. The sheriffs gave chase and, in the darkness, Elisa had tripped and stumbled over something and fallen into a creek. They'd fished her out by the time the NYPD arrived, but she was unconscious and her prognosis was uncertain.

"Is the boy here?" Olivia asked the officer who met them. It was the first time she'd spoken in almost four hours, and her voice was husky.

"We breached as soon as the suspect ran, but..."

"Is he here or not?" Elliot demanded.

The officer closed his eyes, probably unaccustomed to cases like these. He nodded. "His body, yeah... was in a back bedroom."

Olivia bristled, her eyes widened. She was ready to blame herself for stalling her partner's investigation. Elliot saw it.

"Our coroner's in there now, if you wanna go in," the officer said.

Elliot nodded once and headed for the house. Olivia faltered for a moment before she followed and fell into stride behind him. She was so angry that if he dared say anything like "It's not your fault," she was sure she would shoot him. Of course it was her fault, and she knew it, and he would have known it, too.

To make matters worse, it wasn't her fault.

"That's Ben," Elliot breathed when he caught sight of the boy.

"He's been dead for at least a day. No heat in the house, so... it's probably more like two days," the coroner said when the detectives entered the room. "How long has he been missing?"

Elliot's jaw twitched and he scratched his eyebrow. "Uh... about forty-six hours."

The coroner nodded. "He died here," he said, turning again towards the body on the bed. "The timetable is hard to determine, but... if they came straight here, then... it probably would have been within an hour or two. He was smothered. Probably accidental, but... the pillow seems to have been held over his face, and..."

"Assaulted?" Elliot cut in.

The coroner swallowed hard and pulled back the blanket covering the body. "Can be hard to tell on a male victim, but there's some bruising, probably perimortem."

Olivia turned away and took a deep breath. Elliot quickly glanced at her over his shoulder before returning his focus to the doctor.

The coroner sighed and offered Elliot a vague smile. "I left my post in Boston about ten years back. I wanted... a slower pace." He shook his head and looked again at the boy's body. "Maybe there isn't one," he murmured.

Elliot made arrangements with the coroner to have Ben's body sent to the city, then left the cramped bedroom, chucking Olivia on the elbow as he went. She followed.

They walked outside and stood at the back of the house, gazing out into the gray morning. Bad endings to trying cases were never easy, but this one was particularly disheartening because there was nothing they could have done. They couldn't even blame themselves now for taking too long to figure it out, or for not working together as a team, or for fighting about it. Benjamin was dead before 'Marcia Golakos' ever walked into their stationhouse to report him missing.

The detectives stood side by side in silence for a while, watching the dawn break, their breaths coming in exhausted and broken drifts of steam, their hands shoved in their coat pockets. Elliot wanted to apologize for the things he'd said, but he couldn't bring himself to do it. There just weren't any words anymore.

It took an hour to exchange statements with the local sheriffs, then Elliot called Cragen to tell him what had happened. He would handle notifying the parents while Elliot and Olivia made their way home. Sitting on the front porch of the house, Olivia watched Elliot on the phone, and when he hung up, she rose silently and walked with him to the car.

They sat there for a moment, not speaking, just staring at the morning landscape, and only left when one of the sheriffs noticed them and raised his hand in a farewell. Elliot cleared his throat and put the car in gear.

* * *

They've been on the road about an hour now, more than two hours having passed since they last spoke to one another. "Cap wants us both to take a couple days when we get back," Elliot suddenly says. They're approaching I-84 and he nearly blurts out, _Let's take them now, you and me—head to Connecticut for a while. Hide out until the world finds us and drags us back, whaddaya say?_ But that's not what you say to your partner. Munch wouldn't say that to Fin, Fin wouldn't have said it to Lake, no one would have said it to Jeffries or Cassidy, and Elliot shouldn't say it to Olivia.

She nods.

He glances her way, to make sure she's awake, to see if she has heard him. "What, no argument?" he asks, only half-joking.

Her head falls back against the headrest. "No, I think I could use a couple days," she mumbles. The defeat in her voice crushes him.

Elliot glances at her again, nervously. He's not used to his stubborn, tough-as-nails partner taking time off so willingly. Something is seriously wrong. Of course he knows what it is—it's the 800-lb gorilla in the backseat, for God's sake—but he didn't realize it was affecting her this much. "Liv—" he starts.

"Elliot, _don't_," she warns him.

He takes a breath and continues anyway: "I'm sorry I didn't bother to look at Marco."

She stares at him like he just might be the dumbest cop in the world. Does she need to remind him that the case had nothing whatsoever to do with Marco? Does he not remember that she was wrong?

He won't look at her, though, just focuses on the narrow road and the autumn landscape ahead. And she gets it. _I shouldn't have dismissed you_, he no longer needs to say. _I should have backed your play_. His jaw is incredibly tight. _I should have considered all the options, but I went with my gut instead. And it was right this time, but it won't always be; sometimes, the perps turn out to be the Marcos of the world._ He breathes heavily and finally chances a look in her direction. His eyes flit only briefly to hers, but it's enough. _I'm sorry_, he doesn't need to say._ You're my partner. I trust you._

Olivia is overwhelmed.

She wants nothing more than to sleep, but the weight of his unspoken confessions fills her with an energy she can't contain. If this were a cartoon, she'd be bouncing around the interior of the car. Instead, she settles into her seat again, letting her left hand slide along the upholstery until her elbow is almost touching Elliot's, and she permits herself to enjoy the Taconic for exactly what it is.

They're still more than an hour from Manhattan, even longer if Elliot takes the Bronx River rather than the Sprain Brook, like she suspects he might. The water is lovely along the Sprain, but you can't beat the trees and stone of the Bronx River through Westchester, and she knows now what this drive is about. Like so many things in their partnership, it is known but goes unsaid.

The silent Taconic unwinds before them.

* * *

**A/N: My first multi-chapter fic. Comments and reviews are always appreciated.**


End file.
